(We are a group of online friends who try to meet up every year or so. One friend has brought along his wife and young son, and is telling us about a children’s show that he really admires.)

Friend: “So it’s about these dinosaurs who ride around on a train and learn about other dinosaurs and the time they live in! And it’s all historically accurate! I was Googling while we watched.”

Me: “Historically accurate… except for the dinosaurs riding on trains.”

(I am at a small takeaway store with my boyfriend getting dinner. We decide on our orders and it begins time for me to place my order.)

Me: “Hi. How are you? Can I please get a small chips and eight cheesy nuggets?”

Cashier: “I’m sorry. We only have packs of four nuggets.”

Me: “Yes.”

Cashier: “So, you can order four if you would like?”

Me: “What’s four plus four?”

Cashier: “Eight.”

Me: “Correct! So I would like eight cheesy nuggets.”

Cashier: “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

(Giving up, I asked my boyfriend to order four so I could have the eight I wanted.)

(We have a small electrical fire at our fast food restaurant. My fellow coworkers and I have just checked the building to make sure all the customers are out. Most of my coworkers have inhaled smoke and are being checked out by EMTs. I’m standing near the doors to keep customers out.)

Customer: “I ordered $40 worth of food. Why are you standing outside?”

Me: “I’m sorry, Ma’am, we’ve had a small electrical fire…”

(The building is clearly filled with smoke, visible through the windows that surround the restaurant.)

Customer: “Well, is my chicken ready? Someone can just go get it. I’ve already paid.”

Me: “You want someone to go into a burning building in order to get your chicken?”

Customer: “Yes!”

(Before I could respond my supervisor comes back from being checked out.)

Supervisor: “Ma’am, even if someone did get your chicken, it wouldn’t be safe to eat. It was in the warming tray right below where the smoke came pouring out of the roof.”

Customer: “THIS IS F****** RIDICULOUS! I’M A PAYING CUSTOMER AND I WANT MY CHICKEN!”

(I walk away and leave my supervisor to deal with the customer. Shortly after I see the supervisor run back in the building and come out with the customers refund. The customer rips the money out of her hand and storms off, nearly hitting an employee in the parking lot with her car.)

Supervisor: “I just refunded her $60 and told her she could have fresh chicken in the morning.”

Me: “Just so you know, she ripped you off. Her order only came to $42.50.”

Supervisor: “S***.”

(Thankfully, the damage was mostly in the electrical work and the restaurant was opened the next morning.)

(I work at a burger place that is known for their burgers but also for their frozen custard. A lady comes in with her husband who both seem to be in their late 30s. They order three separate orders: one order for her meal, which was just a burger and fries; another order of his meal that consisted of just a grilled sandwich; and the last order of two large blended frozen custard that both had some sort of candies mixed in. I’m doing my round of asking every customer how their nights are and how’s the food when I get to this customer.)

Me: “Hello! How are you two doing tonight?”

Customer: “We are actually not doing okay! My husband found a hair in his sandwich!”

Me: “Oh, I’m really sorry about that. Let me get you a new one of those!”

Customer: “While you’re at it, get me your manager over here right now! This is unacceptable!”

(I grab the sandwich to show the kitchen crew and to remake the sandwich and notice that the hair is blonde and all of us that are working are brunettes. I grab my manager to go talk to her and mention that I found blonde hair in it. All the while the husband still hasn’t said anything, which is odd considering it is his sandwich. I’m bringing out the remake of his sandwich and hear the rest of the argument between the blonde lady and my manager.)

Manager: “Was there anything wrong with your meal, ma’am?”

Customer: “Well, no.”

Manager: “Then, I’m sorry, ma’am. I cannot refund you for your meal. There was nothing wrong with it, especially considering you ate most of it. I also cannot refund you for either of your large desserts. Just because you leave a fifth of both your desserts un-eaten and claim that they tasted horrible and that’s why you didn’t finish it doesn’t mean you would get a refund. I wouldn’t have even taken another bite if it was as horrible as you described. I’m only allowed to refund the sandwich, even when I have a staff full of only brunettes.”

(As the blonde lady was about to say something, her husband speaks up.)

Husband: “No. I know what you’re thinking. We are leaving.”

(Her husband drags her out of the restaurant, taking his sandwich and leaving behind the refund.)

Husband: “That was ridiculous and a waste of time just so you could save a couple of bucks. I don’t know why you couldn’t have just used your burger and just let me eat mine in peace.”

(I am joining my family for dinner when I overhear this exchange between my mother and our waiter:)

Mom: “Can I have a cappuccino?”

Waiter: “I am sorry, We do not have any.”

Mom: “Do you have any green tea?”

Waiter: “Yes, ma’am.”

Mom: “Can I have that with vanilla?”

Waiter: “We do not have any vanilla.”

Mom: “Nothing vanilla.”

Waiter: “Vanilla vodka.”

Mom: “Peppermint? Gingerbread?”

Waiter: “We do not have any flavorings.”

Mom: “Any [Flavored Creamers]?”

Waiter: “We have half and half.”

Mom: “See, I did not want half and half.”

(My father breaks his silence and speaks up and says to the waiter.)

Dad: “Just say yes to whatever she says and bring her half and half.”

Mom: “That works for me.”